My dad was the flatmate of Manuel's father. He visited my mother and cared for her. He attended the birth. I don't know how much of this part is really true because it comes from my dad's mother. 'He likes to help an old dog over a stile', she says. They got married in the garden at the farm, under the oak tree, beside the bed of giant cacti. My grandmother asked her whether she loved him. 'I love him but I'm not in love with him,' she said. 'But I'm marrying him because he's the kindest man I've ever met.' When I imagine her saying this, I see her standing by a cot in one of the bedrooms at the farmhouse. I think Manuel was a year old at that point. At least I know that at the wedding he was toddling, playing with Snowy the dog, who was his great friend for the next ten years or so. My mother seems to regret the wedding, feeling that she had pressured my dad. 'He used to come and go so freely,' she said. 'I couldn't stand it.'

My father adopted Manuel, and our parents would stay together for the two years until I was born, and then four years beyond that. They finished their science degrees, then moved to Auckland to go to teachers' college, then up to the sunny north to take up teaching positions. My dad grew weed on disused bits of land and sold it to get them through. His high school bandmates ended up up north too. Gigs and parties. He injured his back working a labouring job. He would stay out late for gigs. She'd know when he was fucking someone else, and would wake up and vomit. Fights. The sequence is unclear to me but she fell in love with someone else.